


A bouquet of lollipops

by CynicalRainbows



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23092726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalRainbows/pseuds/CynicalRainbows
Summary: Fluffy drabble about baby Maeve and baby Aimee first meeting.Being the only ones late for the first day of school has it's advantages.
Relationships: Aimee Gibbs & Maeve Wiley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	A bouquet of lollipops

**Author's Note:**

> This is dreadful but I've so missed writing and I'm deep, deep in my Maeve/Aimee love atm.

She’s late on the first day of school and it’s not like being late to nursery (where they’re used to it) or to….actually, there aren’t many things she needs to be on time for but she knows, somehow, that being late is Bad, and when she enters the classroom, the other children stare at her with blank impassivity that makes her wonder if it's not just the lateness but her that’s bad.

Sitting on the little square of carpet, she can see that they have become a Group- or perhaps its just her arrival that has made them one. Either way, she is on the outside.

She is saved- ironically- by another late arrival, even later than she is.

She had dragged her feet as her mother tugged her over the threshold; this girl skips in. 

It seems to Maeve that the amorphous crowd on the carpet respond differently to this girl- they look at her with interest, there is a willingness, it seems, to accept her.

It might have something to do with the fact that this girl is just different to Maeve, smiley, pretty, well-scrubbed and angelic looking, not dark and pinched and clad in her older brothers cast offs.

Of course, it might also have something to do with the fact that this girl is holding a huge bunch of lollipops like a bouquet.

By the time the teacher has begun the obligatory spiel about sweets being Against the Rules, it’s far too late- they’re already being shared out, with reckless abandon, by the little blonde girl.

‘Thought it’d be nice to bring something for the kiddies, first day an’ all-’ The mum is smiling and utterly oblivious to any hint that this arriving at school with handfuls of confectionery not The Done Thing. ‘After all, you wouldn’t go to a dinner party and not bring a bottle of wine, would you?’

The fact that this is school and not a dinner party, the fact that lollipops are not wine, the inherent foolishness of giving a room of small children sugar at 9.30 on a Monday morning- all fall dead in the face of Mrs Gibb’s confidence that this absolutely the best way to start her only daughter off in the education system. 

In any case, most of the children are tearing into their sweets already, with the wild eyed ferocity that accompanies unexpected treats. It would take a very brave person to restrain them and so the teacher doesn’t even try.

(Most are already tearing into them.

(Maeve puts hers in her pocket for later. She’ll save it- like she does all of her goodies- until she absolutely can’t wait a moment longer and then savour it in tiny licks here and there, making it last.)

The teacher attempts to assert some semblance of control. ‘Of course, it’s very kind of you, Mrs-’

‘Oh please, call me Sharon!’

‘- but perhaps you could make sure Aimee is on time tomorrow?’

Such requests usually send Maeve’s mother into a flurry of apologising and excusing- she has seen it, she hates how it makes her hunch her shoulders and twist her fingers, like she’s trying to work out how to curl herself out of existence, or at least into a new one where punctuality matters just a little less- but Mrs Gibbs just laughs.

‘Oh of course, of course- first day and all that, you know! I’ll get my Ken to program the satnav properly tonight. Daft bugger said I didn’t need it for such a short journey- shows what men know, eh!. Although-’ She breaks off to give her daughter a kiss and waves a hand at Maeve, still hovering at the edge of the carpet. ‘At least we’re not the only late ones!’ 

Mrs Gibbs gives her daughter a kiss and waves a hand at Maeve. Maeve’s mother is already gone, under the cover of the Gibbs women.

A quiet falls eventually, a blissful stickiness pervades and the teacher tries to herd both girls towards the carpet.

Aimee bounces forwards, to where a space has already been made for her- Maeve hangs back. When she’s older, it occurs to her that their positions in the classroom hierarchy could have been set right then and there- one inside the charmed circle, one out- except that suddenly Aimee reaches back and seizes her hand, pulling her along.

‘I’m Aimee and I have a rabbit called Peter like in the book, except he’s pink-’

(Maeve has a second hand stuffed dog that her brother sometimes steals for his Action Man to attack. It doesn’t have a name- it’s hard to name something when it’s fur is already worn and ever so slightly sticky from another, luckier child.

She does not tell Aimee this.)

Aimee’s chatter washes over her as they sit through Story Time and Snack Time and Song Time.

No one else talks to her- as she’s tugged by Aimee into the game of chase in the playground, pulled to the sand tray and the water tray and the dressing up box. She’s not really used to being manhandled like this but she doesn’t pull away- wherever Aimee goes, the other kids stand back to let her in and that means they include Maeve too.

She wonders for a moment what would happen if Aimee wasn’t there, acting as her passport to popularity- but she doesn’t have to find out because the other girl doesn’t leave her side all day, even though she offers no encouragement, even though she offers nothing at all.

Eventually the long morning ends and Aimee turns to her.

‘You don’t say much.’

It’s not a question but for the first time, she waits for a response.

Maeve shakes her head.

It’s not a groundbreaking response by any means but before she can decide whether to actually say anything, they’re interrupted by the door opening and a swarm of mothers: hometime.

Aimee is collected by a tall man in a suit who nods distractedly when Aimee starts pointing out all the different parts of the classroom and telling him the names of all the other children.

‘-and that’s Amal and that’s Suzie and that’s Michael-’

‘That’s nice, darling-’

‘-and that’s Li and that’s Sam and that’s Alex and-’

‘Lovely, time to go home to Mummy now-’

‘-and that’s Hassan and that’s Maeve. She’s my best friend!’

‘Lovely-’ The man is looking at his watch, tugging Aimee after him in much the same way she tugged Maeve. On the threshold, she turns and waves. 

‘See you tomorrow!’

By the time Maeve has raised her own hand, Aimee is already gone.


End file.
